


A Burden Shared

by tcwordsmith



Category: Les Misérables (Movie 1952)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4051084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcwordsmith/pseuds/tcwordsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madeleine has better ideas than Robert, Madeleine can pick up the large crates for shipping all by himself, Madeleine lifted a cart by himself off of a child before he even /got/ to Morvin.</p><p>Robert believes he has to best Madeleine, until he realizes they work best when they work together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Burden Shared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NotAnymore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAnymore/gifts).



Robert didn't even want to go to work that morning, doesn’t see the point with business as poor as it’s been recently. But, it’s still his job and so he goes to the pottery anyway and he's painting these plates, and he's sighing because no one is quite good enough at everything to do everything. They need someone to buy the place, it won’t last the month at the rate they’ve been going, but his hopes aren’t all that high that anyone will want the pottery. 

The sheer presumption of this man, coming into the shop, insisting he knows pottery better than the rest of them! Robert grits his teeth and allows the man to speak his peace. It’s not that his ideas are bad, they’re just-- “Monsieur, it’s simply not what we do here, but if you owned the place, you could make the changes,” Robert finally says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

He doesn’t expect the man to return and buy the damn place. 

“Well, welcome to your new place of business, Monsieur…?” Robert holds out his hand to shake on the deal.

The man takes his hand readily enough, “Madeleine, and thank you. I’m afraid I don’t know your name though?”

His grip is strong, and Robert increases his own to match (or possibly to get the better of this Madeleine, Robert is a simple man, not a proud one.) “Robert is my name, Monsieur Madeleine.” Madeleine smiles, and it’s as if the whole room is warmer and brighter for it. He also increases his grip, and Robert comes away from the encounter with a sore hand for his trouble.

^

Madeleine is early to work every morning, getting in quite before Robert and taking over jobs like inventory, and checking the books, and--

“Monsieur! Madeleine!” Robert says sharply when he finds Madeleine carrying a large crate for shipping to the loading area. “Monsieur, you needn’t do that on your own,” he insists, walking quickly to reach for the near side of the crate.

Madeleine looks bemused, “Ah, thank you, Robert, but your help is unnecessary. I’ve already moved most of the other crates, this is the last of them for now.” He hefts the crate closer to himself and finishes carrying it to its destination.

“Those crates weren’t meant to be carried alone, Monsieur. You’ll break your back! I am happy to come in earlier to help move them in the future,” Robert says, shaking his head and turning toward the production line. Unnecessary indeed!

“Your dedication is admirable, Robert. I appreciate the offer of aid,” Madeleine says, his voice carrying from the loading area. “Though it isn’t necessary. I have labored all my life, and it is right that I labor still.”

“Every man deserves his rest, Monsieur,” Robert says, more to himself than to Madeleine.

^

Robert manages to carry three stacks of finished plates, Madeleine carries five. Robert arrives before the sun, Madeleine has spent the night on a pallet in the store room. Robert balances the books, Madeleine finds three new clients, and someone who will advertise their wares in a specialty shop.

“Madeleine,” Robert stops in Madeleine’s office one evening and leans against the door frame. He waits for Madeleine to look up from the books and offers a small smile when he does.

Madeleine’s answering smile is still the beacon it was at their first meeting. He brushes a hand across his forehead, and manages to get his hair out of his eyes but smudges ink near his temple all the same. “Robert, heading home for the evening? You’ve had a long day.”

Robert refrains from rolling his eyes, every long day he may have is met with three of Madeleine’s even longer nights, but it’s all for the good, the pottery may even survive the year at this point. “I am, and you ought to find your bed as well. A candle only burns well from the one end, after all.”

With a sigh, Madeleine stretches in his seat and looks back at the books in front of him, “Would that I could, but there’s always more to do.”

It’s true, and Robert himself could find another day’s work if he cared to look, but it’s late, and he’s tired, and they must both be hungry by now, “Madeleine. If you won’t go to your home, allow me to invite you to mine. At least for dinner--you must eat, after all.” He pushes away from the doorframe and heads for Madeleine’s desk, fully prepared to ‘help’ the older man leave the office.

“Oh, thank you Robert,” Madeleine plays with the edge of a page, “I couldn’t possibly impose, I wouldn’t want to put your wife to that trouble. Certainly not this late in the evening.”

Robert stops just before the desk, “Well if that is your concern, I am pleased to tell you there is no chance you’d be imposing.”

Madeleine looks up, “Why is that?”

With a smile, Robert offers Madeleine his hand, “I have not yet had the pleasure of being married.”

“Well, if it’s no imposition,” Madeleine says softly, setting down his work. He turns and allows Robert to help him up from the desk, “I am most grateful for your hospitality.”

“And I for your company,” Robert replies as they leave the shop for the night.

^

"Robert, we need you to talk to Monsieur Madeleine about becoming mayor and turning Morvin into a real town," the town's more affluent men have joined Robert for lunch, Robert having just ducked out of the factory for a few hours of errand running.

"I cannot talk to Madeleine about becoming mayor, and I’m not sure why you think I would in the first place. Why don't you talk to him about it and see how that goes," Robert sips his coffee and stares mutinously at the men seated around his tiny table at the cafe.

"We could however, you are rooming with him now. Therefore you're the closest to him and we thought, well," one of them fidgets uncomfortably, the others are suddenly very interested in their own cups of coffee.

"Monsieur is quite busy with the factory, and hardly has time to himself as it is. If he took on a public position, he'd sleep never, and eat even less often," Robert says quietly.

The men shrug, almost as one, and the ringleader hands over the stack of papers.

"Nevertheless, we believe he is the best man, the only man, for the job. And you are the one to convince him," he says. They stand, as one this time, and leave enough on the table to cover their coffees and Robert's besides. Robert glares at the papers but takes them with him when he leaves the cafe.

That evening, he sets out dinner and sets the stack of papers in the middle of the small, well scrubbed table. Madeleine comes home from the factory well past when the owner of the business should leave his offices, and immediately heads for the kitchen.

"Welcome home, Madeleine," Robert greets him at the doorway, shoos him into a chair rather than letting him step foot in the kitchen. "If you come in here, you'll want to help, and I'll not have too many cooks in my kitchen. You sit, I'll bring you something warm to drink." Madeleine smiles and busses a kiss against Robert's cheek as he goes to sit.

"I know when not to argue with you, dear Robert. How was your day? I didn't have a chance to catch up with you after your errand running this morning," he asks, glancing at the stack of papers but leaving it undisturbed.

"I ran into the nattering old men's club during my lunch. Or, rather, they descended upon my table like a swarm of locusts," Robert has never been one to dance around much (except perhaps Madeleine on special occasions), and he decides not to start now. He sets a cup of coffee in front of Madeleine and squeezes the older man's shoulder as he heads back into the kitchen.

Madeleine barely stifles a groan as he takes a sip of the coffee and asks, "And what did the esteemed gentlemen wish of you?"

Robert shrugs even though Madeleine can't see him do it and sees to the finishing touches on dinner. "World peace, more money, lower taxes, and for you to agree to become mayor so the town attains legitimacy. Nothing terribly important."

"...They want me to be mayor?" Madeleine sounds perplexed.

"Yes," Robert says, carrying a tray with two bowls of stew and a large hunk of cheese and half a loaf of bread, "they believe you are the most successful businessman this town has ever seen, and that that makes you the perfect candidate for mayor of the town." He divvys up the food and settles a cloth in Madeleine's lap.

"I... I'm not quite sure what to make of it. Did they say they were planning to approach me?" Madeleine asks, taking the knife and cutting first some bread and then some cheese.

"No, they approached me instead. They said I was the only person they believed to be fit to discuss this matter with you, and sent me along with that stack of papers," Robert dips a spoon into his stew, only to have to wait for the spoon to cool before even considering eating it.

Madeleine looks to the stack of papers, careful not to get crumbs all over it as he peruses while eating. "Well," he says finally, "it does appear to all be in order. There are provisions to keep me involved in my business, term limits, even a section on oversight from outside of the town."

"I do not think they should ask this of you, I think it is too much. You cannot run the town and a business. It's far too much," Robert says decisively, "And I told them as much. But I fear they are quite persistent, if I hadn't agreed to take the papers today, rest assured they would have simply brought them up again later."

"I couldn't possibly answer directly, but I have to admit I'm at least a bit intrigued that they considered me," Madeleine says as he continues to look over the paperwork. “It would be difficult, but perhaps if I had a proxy to run the pottery, at least while I was mayor, and I could perhaps have a shortened term since I’m not being elected properly.”

Robert sighs and pushes back from the table, “I don’t suppose I can convince you not to do this, you always have taken on more than your fair share of the work.”

“Ah, but I have help this time,” Madeleine says, setting down the papers and reaching for Robert’s hand. “The very best Morvin has to offer. A burden shared is a burden halved, after all.”

Robert takes Madeleine’s hand in his and kisses his knuckles, “You only need ask.”


End file.
